


Animal Instincts

by Fluffyllama (Llama)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-13
Updated: 2010-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/pseuds/Fluffyllama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Harry wants, Harry gets. With a little help from his fairy godfather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Animal Instincts

**Title:** Animal Instincts  
 **Pairing:** Sirius/James, Sirius/James/Harry  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Warnings:** AU - No Voldemort, though Lily died of unspecified causes when Harry was young, incest, underage (Harry is 15).  
 **Summary:** What Harry wants, Harry gets. With a little help from his fairy godfather.

When Harry calmly asked “So, how old were you when you did it for the first time?”, his father spat his first mouthful of tea all over the breakfast table.

“You’ve got lousy timing, Harry,” he said, looking up in time to see the wink Sirius gave his son. “Almost as bad as your godfather.”

“Taught the boy everything I know.” Sirius leaned back in his chair with a smug grin – until James caught his eye with a meaningful _look_. “Er, well, you know. Everything appropriate. Godfatherly duties and all that.”

James poured himself another cup of tea. He had the feeling of foreboding that usually accompanied a joint offensive by Sirius and Harry, but it was too early in the morning to investigate the full horror implied by the phrase _godfatherly duties_. If he was going to have a heart attack, he wanted a good breakfast down him first.

“So. Did what, exactly?”

“Learned the Animagus transformation of course. What else would I be talking about?” Harry was all innocence behind his overflowing spoon of cornflakes. No wonder that t-shirt needed a wash again already.

“We were fifteen when we managed it for the first time.” He carefully avoided Sirius’ eye.

“So I’m old enough to learn it.”

“Well, yes. But that doesn’t mean you need to push yourself to do anything.”

“I could start trying, though?”

Sirius was looking at the ceiling, and making it quite clear that he was in no way responsible for this situation. James searched desperately for a way out. “Only if you finish all your holiday homework first.” He put his mug down firmly. Harry’s face fell, and James buttered another slice of toast. That had certainly put paid to that little plan.

* * *

“The first stage of attempting the Animagus transformation,” James said, raising his voice as Harry charged into Sirius with a loud bellow, “is to let out some of your animal instincts.”

Sirius dodged Harry among the long grass, and turned to dive for his legs amid squeals and slaps. James ignored the urge to pile on top of them both, folding his arms and frowning down paternally instead.

“Not that yours will have far to come.”

“Instincts? That makes sense.” Harry disengaged himself from Sirius’ grip, rolled over and sat up, his hands splayed out behind him.

“Yeah, animals don’t have any inhibitions,” Sirius added. He flopped back onto the grass, pulling his shirt open a little further to reveal sweaty, glistening skin. “You need to drop the human mask and run around wild for a bit. We’ll soon see what you’re made of.” The grin he flashed Harry was pure devilment.

“No inhibitions?” Harry sat up straighter. “You mean…?”

“Yep, get ‘em off, kid.” Sirius stretched out and rubbed the warm skin of his belly, pulling his shirt looser. James could feel Sirius’ gaze wander over him in turn, and rubbed at his neck uncomfortably. Sirius just smiled lazily, a predatory show of teeth.

“Now?” Harry had already scrambled to his feet.

“Yeah. And then bugger off for a bit.” Sirius made a show of drying his grass-damp hand against his jeans, his fingers straying close to his zip. His eyes didn’t leave James’ face.

“What Sirius is trying to say,” said James, frowning at the way Harry’s eyes followed those fingers with wide eyes, “is that you can go over there into the bushes and take off your clothes. Then just get used to roaming around like that… see how the air feels on your skin.” He swallowed, avoiding the sharp blue eyes that watched him from below half-closed lids. “Things like that.”

“How long for?” Harry was already halfway into the trees and pulling his thin t-shirt over his head.

“Until you’ve had enough. Don’t wear yourself out, and don’t go too far away. This is just a start.”

Sirius pushed himself up on his elbows. “I’ll double your pocket money if you manage an hour.”

“Sirius!” James darted a look at the undergrowth.

“Please. It’s not like I don’t already know you’re having sex.” Harry’s head popped up from behind the bushes, his shoulders bare.

James closed his eyes. “You could at least pretend you don’t listen.”

“Ow, there’s stones everywhere.” They could hear rustling as Harry made his way into the trees. “Going now! That means you can shag!”

James groaned and let himself drop down into the grass. Sirius was on him in a second, running hands underneath his shirt and nuzzling on his neck.

“Ten galleons says the boy’s a dog.”

“Sirius, you don’t have ten galleons.”

“So? I’ll borrow them off you.”

“Why do I put up with you again?”

“The great sex.” Sirius’ hair fell across his face, framing that irresistible grin.

“Remind me,” James whispered, and pulled the shaggy head down towards his.

* * *

“You know,” said Sirius, raising his head from James’ groin, “this would probably be more fun if we were both paying attention.”

“Sorry.” James stopped craning his neck towards the trees. “I’m just not very…relaxed.”

“Parts of you are.” Sirius pulled himself up and stretched out over James’ body with a sigh. “I’m almost insulted. I must have been down there for half an hour.”

James raised his hand to brush away the long strands of thick, black hair that tickled his face, and found himself pulled into a sweaty embrace.

“Maybe I should just fuck you instead,” Sirius growled into his neck, his erection hot and damp against James’ thigh now, soft in contrast to the harsh rasp of his zip alongside it. There was an answering twitch; it never failed. Even so, James pulled away.

“We can’t. Harry could be back any time. Naked in the grass is one thing, but I’m not sure I could look my son in the eye if he saw you shagging me senseless.”

Sirius’ expression didn’t change. “You’re not his bloody mother as well, you know.”

It was a low jab, and a far too frequent one lately. James wasn’t going to respond, not this time.

“The kid won’t die if you stop being the sensible sodding parent for five minutes, James.”

Fuck it.

“Works though, doesn’t it? Do you think anyone else’s kid managed to finish all their homework for the holidays in a week and a half?”

He watched carefully, and saw Sirius’ left eye twitch. Aha.

“He’s a bright boy.”

“Yeah. I expect he’ll be top of all his classes next year.” James could see Sirius calculating his chances.

“Wouldn’t doubt it for a minute.”

“Hmm. Unless you’ve run out of notes to give him, of course.”

Sirius broke the gaze first, and pushed himself off, sinking back into the crushed dandelions and daisies.

“You were being an arse.”

“He’s too young. I’m his father, and you’re old enough to be.”

“So we teach him the basics and he can go and run around with his own little friends just like we did.”

James stared up at the faint traces of clouds beginning to drift across the perfect blue sky. Sirius shifted, and James could feel his breath hot against his shoulder. He shivered all the same.

“Or is that what you’re afraid of?”

He opened his mouth to deny it, but there was a rustle, a cry and a crash from among the trees.

“Ow. Owowow!”

“Harry!”

* * *

“It’s nothing really,” Harry said hastily, as James pushed Sirius aside to get to him. “Just a bit of a scratch from a thorn.”

James wiped the blood away carefully and examined it. “I can’t see anything in it…” He frowned.

“I pulled it out.” Harry squinted at his dripping foot. “It wasn’t too bad, but there was all this blood when it came out… I thought I could make it back okay.” His face paled once more, then he jumped and let out a yelp.

“Sirius, stop that.” James slapped away Padfoot’s nose as a long tongue swept over the sole of Harry’s foot once more. It lolled to one side, then Sirius was back, laughing in the grass and fastening up his jeans.

“That’s disgusting.” But Harry was smiling at his godfather, a little more colour in his cheeks.

“It’s the best way on hand to clean it up.” Sirius shrugged. “And I don’t mind. No inhibitions, remember?”

“You have inhibitions,” Harry said with certainty. “Look at all the ‘don’t listen to us having sex, Harry’, and the way you leap apart every time I walk into a room these days.”

“That’s not the same thing,” said James, frowning.

But Sirius snorted. “‘That’s your dad, not me, mate.” He grinned widely. “I don’t care if you watch. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“Sirius.” There was a warning note in James’ voice now. Now that the emergency was dealt with, he wished he’d had the presence of mind to grab some clothes. Among the trees, with Sirius warm against his side and the startling unfamiliar sight of Harry unashamedly naked under his hands… he shifted his leg in an attempt to hide his inconveniently-timed erection, a fact evidently not missed by Sirius.

“He’s going to work it out, you know that.” Sirius’ voice was unusually gentle as he met James’ eyes, and James wondered which ‘it’ he was referring to. Maybe it was both. “He might as well know now.”

“Know what?” Harry sat up, thoroughly distracted now from his sore foot at the promise of secrets. “What am I going to work out?”

James sighed deeply. “That this…” he waved his hand vaguely between himself and Sirius as he spoke. “Us. It started when we were learning how to transform ourselves.”

Harry’s forehead wrinkled, clearly trying to work this out. “I know that.”

Sirius and James exchanged a look.

“Yeah, but what your Dad didn’t want to tell you is that it happened because it’s the most effective way to get rid of inhibitions. We tried all sorts of things but there was nothing so helpful as us all getting naked together and–”

Harry’s eyes widened. “All of you? Uncle Peter and Remus too?”

Sirius nodded.

“Wow.” Harry nibbled at his lip briefly, then his eyes lit up. “So you’re going to do the same for me, right? Is that what you were bothered about? Because you needn’t be. I want to do it.”

“No!” James glared at Sirius, who just grinned. ‘That’s not– It’s not the same thing. We’re not your age… and I’m–” He stopped. As if it wasn’t bad enough Harry was sitting there in front of him so grown up and naked and full of energy… he shivered despite the warm sun on his shoulders. “We’re not having this conversation.”

There was a blessed moment of silence, and James allowed himself to believe the subject was closed. Just this once, just maybe, Sirius could be persuade to shut the hell up and think of someone other than himself.

“You know something, Harry?” Sirius’ voice was not that of a man who had given up anything. “I think your old Dad has forgotten how to let go of his inhibitions.”

Harry shuffled forward uncertainly, his eyes wide and fixed on James. “I think you’re right.” He wasn’t even looking to Sirius for his cue, James realised.

“What do you say, Harry - think we can do something about that?” Sirius’ voice was low, an edge of excitement almost concealed under the casual words - unless you knew him, had spent countless years encouraging that voice, searching for it in stray words when you were alone together. And it wasn’t just that, but the way Sirius leaned in close to Harry when he said it that reminded him of some of the places that voice had taken him before.

“Yeah, said Harry, “I reckon we can.” He moved closer still, and reached out towards where they sat. For one insane moment James thought Harry was going to touch him, but instead he watched the hand pass him by and stroke Sirius’ face. It was gentle, and so unlike their normal play - so unlike either of them except when Harry was half-asleep and affectionately dopey, or Sirius was lying sweaty and sated next to him, that he caught his breath.

Harry’s fingers were long - James wondered when the last time he’d really noticed them was, except to tell him to scrub his nails before tea - and brushed past Sirius’ long hair and over the stubble he hadn’t bothered to get rid of that morning. Then they trailed towards his lips, and James knew what was coming a split second before Sirius’ hand reached up to grab Harry by the wrist. A twist and a roll, and Sirius was straddling the boy, and James didn’t need to see his face to know the look on it. The muscles in his shoulders were tensed and gleaming, and James wanted nothing more than to lick along them; wriggle his tongue into every nook and cranny, work every spot that made him gasp, rip those jeans off and burrow into him with tongue and fingers and cock.

“You want this?” Sirius growled, grinding his hips against Harry’s growing erection, all smooth, pink skin, so innocent and new. James couldn’t hold it against the boy for gasping out a “Yes”. Hadn’t he done the same himself, more times than he could remember? Even when he shouldn’t have done; even when it was time to go and meet Lily for a date, or when his parents were due round for dinner.

All Sirius ever had to do was show up, lounging in the doorway and looking like sin itself. Looking at him with that _hunger_ , that need he’d never admit to in words. Pushing him up against the kitchen cupboards, running those hands up his ribs, over his back, and murmuring those same words to him. Next thing he knew he’d be answering the front door with his shirt rumpled and stained while Sirius slipped out the back way, or apologising yet again to Lily, who would take it out on him all night for having to sit in the pub with Remus or Peter – or worse, on her own - for half an hour.

But now Harry’s hands were all over that denim-clad rear; Harry’s fingers fumbled round to the zip, his face flushed under Sirius’ shoulder, eyes closed against the sun. Or maybe closed against his father. His father who was going to sit here and let this happen. Was going to watch it happen.

Was going to wish it was— James wiped the sweat from his forehead and watched Sirius’ hands run over Harry’s face. He caught his breath, and not just at the gentleness of the touch, or the way Harry turned his mouth to kiss Sirius’ wrist. Without the flash of giveaway green, Harry could have been him; the trees the ones behind the Quidditch stands, or the woods behind his parents’ house where he’d spent hours underneath Sirius in exactly the same way. Lips murmuring against his, tongue dipping down to taste his mouth, possessive fingers clenched in his hair. He’d probably jerked his leg in the same way in response to Sirius’ touch, even if that touch had been more amateur and fumbling than it was now.

Yet Sirius’ hands were trembling now, he could see them. Not when they smoothed their way over Harry’s chest, or delved between their arched bodies to make the boy squirm and gasp. But when they returned to his face, traced his lips, brushed his hair away; when they pushed those scruffy, faded jeans down to let his cock spring free again; when they fumbled through the turned out pockets to find the half squeezed-out tube James knew was in there somewhere; then he could see the shake.

Fingers shining with gel, arm braced against the ground, Sirius bent over to kiss Harry again.

“Open your eyes.”

Harry’s eyelids flickered, and he pressed his lips against Sirius’ mouth again, hands clutching at the strong shoulders. James could feel the warm, sweat-slick skin as if they were his own fingers leaving pale marks on that sun-browned surface, tightening their grip with every slippery thrust inside him. He had looked up into that face the same way; trusting, needing, wanting. He had widened his eyes like that, panted a laugh like that in nervousness and excitement, pushed his hips up to let those fingers twist deeper inside him.

He’d grabbed for those arms when Sirius sat back on his heels too, then realised why. Watched Sirius’ head dip to take him in his mouth, teasing the tip of his cock with his lips; feeling himself swell under that tongue.

Did Harry taste the same as him?

He brushed away the blades of dry grass that tickled against his legs, shifting to watch Sirius’ mouth suck that pink, swollen cock down, watch those lips slide and swivel over the glistening flesh, the eyes flick up to check that yes, Harry was okay, felt good, was mumbling “Yes” and “God” and all the other nonsense words James couldn’t quite hear. His hands crept over the flattened grass, pulling him closer against his will to make out the words.

And there he was. His son, his Harry. His hair wild with grass and sticking to his forehead in damp, dark strands, writhing under his godfather’s hands.

He could hear the wet pop as Sirius let Harry’s prick slip from his mouth, licking away the dribbles. There was the slick sound of his hand taking its place, but James couldn’t take his eyes from Harry’s face.

Harry’s eyes were still closed.

His breath was sweet and warm, with a hint of Sirius.

He’d never know.

He thought sliding into damnation would feel different somehow. But it was oddly like kissing any other teenage boy when he let his lips touch his son’s; any other teenage boy that he’d loved, in any case.

It had been a few years, he acknowledged with a shrug, but Sirius seemed to get it. The way he slid his hand so slowly and deliberately over Harry’s enthusiastically reaching cock was an invitation. The look in Sirius’ eyes was a dare.

Maybe he wasn’t so different now. Maybe he was still the same irresponsible, immature prick who broke rules because they were there, sailed through classes and exams with the luck of the devil, chased girls because they ran away and sucked cock because after all, why not? He’d done enough to be expelled seventeen times over by then.

It was a good thing you couldn’t be expelled from fatherhood, he thought, as his lips followed Sirius’ hand down. He let them slide slowly over the tip of Harry’s cock, savouring the slippery exposed head and letting his tongue trail over it slowly, tasting and teasing. Harry bucked and bumped against his teeth, groaning as James took over, Sirius’ fingers loosing their grip and disappearing from his sight to be replaced by his own.

Sirius’ hair fell across Harry’s stomach as he nuzzled his way across it, but if Harry noticed there was a mouth on his cock and one kissing its way along his body, he didn’t let on. The soft gasps and murmurs gave way to moans under his father’s mouth, and James couldn’t remember when producing such sounds had been so rewarding. It was worth the ache in his jaw from the effort, worth the effort of learning his way around this surprisingly individual boy – he almost choked with a laugh as he wondered what he’d expected – for Harry to like it exactly as he did? He’d have hit the ceiling if anyone had scraped him with their teeth for a start, but Harry groaned in heartfelt pleasure at a little touch in the right spot.

He jumped at the slippery fingers on his cock, too intent on the rhythm he had built to remember his own arousal. Sirius raised an eyebrow and slicked cool gel smoothly up and down, such a good feeling that James squirmed further into his grasp. So good, the touch that knew just what to do to help him along the way, twist over the head, smooth and squeeze, just a little more pressure _there_ and oh god, he was going to—

But Sirius let go, and moved back. James watched as his fingers twisted once more inside Harry, and pulled out. He swallowed hard, and tried to say “No”, but his throat was too tight to work. He shook his head.

He tried to watch Sirius squeeze the last of the lubricant onto his hand. He glimpsed the determined motion of his hand from the corner of his eye, and felt the bump of his elbow with each stroke, but he couldn’t bear to watch. Not this.

He turned to Harry’s lips instead, drinking in the taste of him as if it could soothe his burning, aching throat, or make what he’d already done all right. Because it wasn’t. It didn’t matter what Harry had said earlier; he didn’t know what James had done, what Sirius had invited him to do without his knowledge or consent. He smoothed the unruly hair down gently, but his hand froze as Harry turned, face flushed and eyes closed, and mumbled a simple word between a “Yes” and “Oh god”.

“ _Dad_.”

Those green eyes were open, suddenly. Hands, Harry’s hands, reaching up for him this time, not stretching out to Sirius. They pulled him down, crushing their lips together in a real kiss this time. This wasn’t a shameful, sneaked kiss that Harry would never know about. It wasn’t a kiss prompted by averting his eyes from what was happening. It was just him, James Potter, kissing someone he wanted to kiss. Someone he wanted to make feel good; _had_ made feel good, and would make feel even better. Someone he wanted to explore, learn, teach.

He didn’t even notice Sirius had moved until he was crouched over Harry, his lips pressing into his neck, his shoulder, his throat. His teeth grazing a nipple – oh yes, he liked that – on their way down, scraping lightly everywhere he trailed with wet kisses. He never knew if he had moved Harry’s legs to drape over his shoulders, or someone else had. He forgot there was any reason not to let his cock go where it needed to, any reason not to let it edge its way inside the body that heaved and squirmed under him. What reason would have been enough to stop him, he couldn’t think. He pushed deeper and deeper, feeling his cock hollow out the eager hole that opened up around him with every thrust and wriggle; that was impossibly tight even so; that squeezed the orgasm out of him too quickly, far too quickly for his tastes.

He fell back into Sirius’ arms, releasing Harry with a kiss and watching himself slither free of his son’s body. The heat of the moment just passed was replaced by a tingling cold sweat, one even Sirius’ reassuring hands couldn’t take away.

“Jesus.” He ran his fingers through his hair, careless of the sweat and soil on his hands. “Harry, I—” What could he say? Could he say he was sorry, that he got carried away?

But Sirius held him fast, and Harry pushed himself up in the grass until he knelt in front of James.

“I don’t—” And still the words wouldn’t come.

Then Harry’s fingers were on _his_ face, and in _his_ hair, and his lips found James’. James wrapped his arms around him tentatively, only believing it was real when Harry slurped his mouth around to his ear and licked it playfully.

“Love you, Dad,” he whispered, and pulled back with a smile.

Behind him, James heard Sirius laugh, and saw him reach a hand forward to caress the boy’s neck affectionately.

“You know, Prongs old mate,” Sirius breathed in his other ear. “I almost thought I was going to have to go through with it.”

“Next time?” Harry nuzzled at Sirius’ arm.

“You bet, kid.”

And really, James thought, letting himself be sandwiched between the two people he cared for most in the world, it wasn’t his fault. It would take a stronger man than him to deny Harry anything, and there was no known force on earth that could stop Sirius in pursuit of his godfatherly duty.

“Definitely a dog,” he muttered, letting his eyelids drift shut as he relaxed into the warm embrace. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“You’re still not getting the ten galleons.”


End file.
